Different
by Lafayette1777
Summary: Maybe if someone had been there, things could've been different. For a certain fifth season episode.
1. Leap

She was soaping up to her elbows and under her fingernails in a metal sink, when someone appeared at her side.

"Morning." Dr. Robert Chase said, beginning to sterilize next to her.

Dr. Rush smiled at him quickly, before looking back down at her lathered hands.

"You're quiet." He remarked.

She shrugged.

"Is something interesting going on?"

She just smiled, blushing slightly as she turned off the water.

"No way..." He grinned devilishly. "You're not..."

She nodded, hands held above her head as she elbowed her way into the nearby OR. One thing she had learned about anyone who had worked with Gregory House, was that they didn't miss much.

"Finally!" Chase cried, sliding on gloves and a mask. "This is gonna be great. You guys are gonna be great."

Rush smiled nervously.

"Don't be worried." Chase told her. "The worst he can say is 'no', right?"

She looked at him. "Encouraging."

"You'll be fine. When are you gonna ask him?"

"After lunch."

"Find me and tell me what happens."

Another fact of House's people; they liked drama, anything that would bring some excitement. Something interesting needed to be happening right this minute to keep them focused. She guessed that it was this frantic mindset they'd been in for three years which had lead them eventually to the ER, surgery, and then back to House, respectively.

She quieted her nerves as the anesthesiologist did his work. It was just a appendectomy, which was a bit simple for Chase's liking, but it had been a slow morning.

Afterwards, they were pushed immediately toward another operating room, where a patient had a massive bleed somewhere in the small intestine. They found and repaired it quickly.

It's 11:30 in the morning when they finally peeled off gloves and robes.

"It's lunchtime." Chase said.

She rolled her eyes. "No, it's not."

"Too bad. Putting it off won't help. You just gotta get it done."

"You make it sound like a chore."

"This part is. The small talk, the asking, it's just trivial. Part of the social contract. The thing is, if you like eachother, you like eachother, and it doesn't matter what you do. But society dictates for one of you to grow a pair and ask the other out."

"So that's why you just bypassed the whole dating thing with Cameron, right? Because you liked eachother, and so it was inevitable." Rush retorted.

"Don't do what I did. Also, that's different because she was the one who didn't want to deal with the social norms and I went along with it for obvious reasons. Consequently, we spent a lot of time dicking around instead of just admitting we were more than sex partners. The asking may be trivial, but you gotta do it."

She sighed. "Fine. I'll got to lunch. But if I get paged in the middle and have to throw away half my food, I'm blaming you."

"I'll cover for you." Chase replied. "And I don't come back here until you've at least tried to score yourself a boyfriend."

She stopped at the door and turned. "Thanks, by the way."

He shrugged. "No problem." She smiles.

Chase had been adamant when she'd told him a out her crush. Since then, he'd made it a routine to send her upstairs with any surgery results, instead of taking them to House himself. House, thought an asshole (a fact every other doctor and nurse had told her when she'd asked about the conspicuous doctor, upon her arrival at Princeton-Plainsboro), could be tolerable, even fun, in small doses. Admittedly, though, she hadn't the slightest desire to work for him, and he was hardly the bright spot in her visits up to Diagnostics.

Since she was still a resident, and several years his junior, Chase had decided to take Medina Rush under his wing. She had also never lived in the north before, having been born in Richmond, Virginia and gone to school in Baltimore, leaving her unequipped to deal with living immersed in New Jersey's weather and people. She couldn't quite remember what exactly had drawn her to PPTH, except that when doing research on various possibilities for her residency, she kept being drawn back to Princeton. Now, she was a year into her residency, and on her way to becoming a full fledged surgeon.

She entered the cafeteria, and found a few half decent items for lunch. Most doctors weren't eating yet—it wasn't yet noon, so the room was muffled in volume.

She ate slowly, mustering up her courage. This was not going to be easy. She had never been one for words, and, like most residents, she was in an almost constant state of sleep deprivation.

She should probably plan what she wanted to say before she got up there.

_Dear Kutner, I find you attractive, we should go out some time._

Perhaps not. Too strange, even for Kutner.

_I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink some time?_

She started thinking of a couple of weeks ago, when she'd gone up to Diagnostics, only to see Kutner carefully edging around a ladder, placed strategically in front of the conference room doorway.

She'd found this odd, but had reported on the health of his patient and not mentioned it. It was cute, really, seeing a grown man succumb to superstition.

House had seen her watching Kutner as he walked down the hall.

"Hmm." House had said, squinting at her, before limping away. For once, it seemed, House was too busy for a witty comment. This was supported by the fact he a dark gray cat tucked under one arm.

Later that evening, Kutner'd caught up with her in the parking lot and asked her almost point blank if she believed in the paranormal.

She'd replied that there was plenty of things that couldn't be explained by science, and some things that never would be. And she had a certain reliance on fate to a healthy extent, some belief that everything happened for a reason. Although sometimes that reason seems to be simply to fuck up your life.

He told her about Debbie the Death Cat, and they ended up talking about things of that nature for a while. She thought about asking him out right then, but she'd just worked a thirty-six hour shift in the ICU and could barely get home without her eyelids drooping dangerously.

He'd gotten an excited glint in his eye when they talked about the supernatural. They'd both put a fair amount of thought into it, the meaning of life and the substance of death. He'd told her about his birth parents, and the sparkle had left his dark eyes. They'd talked only a little longer after that, before she told him she really had to get some sleep.

Since then, he'd invited her over to the table he and Taub usually shared for lunch. They watched a lot of the same TV and movies, when they weren't being worked to the bone by their bosses. Rush had a deep love for stories in general, so she found media outlets exceptionally agreeable. Kutner had a similar view. It was an escape, they decided, a moment to look at a character and either be supremely jealous or say "at least I don't have that problem", or maybe even relate something fictional to your own life. She grew addicted to that excited gleam, appearing whenever he talked passionately about something. It made her smile involuntarily.

Besides Kutner, she didn't really have anyone to geek out with.

They shared a smile and a hello when they passed in the hallway, and talked when their work schedules permitted. She still submitted to the usually crush in close proximity behavior: trying to look respectable in clean scrubs and keeping her brown hair combed when he was around. But she still had know idea the range of his feelings for her.

She supposed she'd be finding out soon enough.

She was interrupted from her thoughts as an ambulance came roaring by the outside wall. She glanced at her watch, deciding it was time to man up and do this shit.

Her chest was tight with anticipation, a mixture of fear and elation.

She smiled like an idiot in the hospital corridors, taking the stairs three at a time, as thought Lawrence Kutner had already told her yes.

m m m

Chase sauntered into the ER as lunch time approached, hoping to collect his girlfriend for a meal.

Allison Cameron was standing at the center counter, looking down at a red file. Her face was ashen, and the hand that held a black pen was shaking slightly.

"I have good news." Chase said, coming toward her with a grin spreading across his stubbled face. "Medina's finally gonna ask out Kutner."

Chase's rather naïve protege and her crush had come up more than once in his and Cameron's conversations. After all, they were children of House, and this could be considered drama.

She looked up at him, and her eyes were glassy. He took in the scene quickly. A body, covered by a sheet was being rolled away by nurses.

"What's going on?" He asked.

When she told him, he took and involuntary step back, clutching at the counter.

"Why?" Chase asked, horrified.

"Nobody has any simple explanation." She replied.

He reached out for her, and they hugged for a long time. It didn't matter that they hadn't known Kutner very well. It was shocking, and he could only imagine the pain of the new team. Maybe even House would be upset by this. And Medina, good lord, Medina would be completely blind sighted. She wouldn't be able to handle this.

Chase found himself thinking something that had crossed his mind many times before.

_The universe is just cruel._

To Kutner, to the team, to Medina, to everyone, really.

m m m

Rush's stomach was doing flip flops as she opened the door exiting the stairwell. She speed walked down the hallway toward the Diagnostics conference room.

She decided the world was cast in happy shades today, with the bright sun streaming in Princeton-Plainsboro's many windows, wide corridors, and smiling doctors, even as she quieted her butterflies.

She pushed open the glass door to find Taub, Foreman, and Thirteen seated at the table, their faces masked in confusing expressions. Guilt and grief on a day like this? They had been talking quietly, but stopped when she appeared. House was in the corner of the room, leaning heavily on his cane and staring at the gray carpet. Thirteen had unshed tears filling her eyes.

"Where's Kutner?" Rush asked, observing his absence. The room was gloomy with the shades drawn, and the air was suffocatingly thick with tension. House had yet to say something sexist or racist, and they didn't seem to be doing any kind of differential. Unease knelt in the pit of her stomach, but she remained optimistic.

"Gone." Foreman whispered, and then explained.

Medina Rush just looked at him for a moment, then watched as all the color drained from the world before her.


	2. Premonitions

**Author's Note: This was originally just gonna be a one-shot, but I had an idea and had to add to it. This is the last chapter, I swear. Please review!**

She felt before she saw.

Thick grass, swaying in the breeze, poking into her back where she laid. Sunlight beating down relentlessly on her face an arms, though she wasn't sweating. She finally opened her eyes, and sat up slowly.

Wind blew her hair back immediately, yellow stalks brushing her face. The sky was a clearer blue than she'd ever seen it, and everything was crisp and clear. The salt marsh stretched in all directions, to infinity, waterways tracing their way through the stiff grass. She was on one of the few substantial pieces of ground. A single, spindly tree, rose up from the earth, three hundred yards to her left. It was small, but cast a little shadow with it's green leaves.

She looked away from the tree for a moment to take in the enormity of the landscape, and when she looked back a figure was leaning against the trunk. It was indistinguishable in the shade of the tree against the glaring sunlight. She got to her feet carefully, the wind blowing her lab coat back as she walked unevenly toward the tree. Her shoes were soon muddy, her hair quickly mussed beyond repair. The figure came into focus as she approached.

Soon, she had joined him under the shade.

"Where am I?" She asked.

"You're asleep, Medina." Lawrence Kutner replied. "On your couch."

"Makes sense. But why would my subconscious bring me here, to a place I've never been, that probably doesn't exist?" Rush asked.

"Pretty, isn't it? I thought it was nice."

"I suppose."

"Interesting how you assume this is all a product of your subconscious." Kutner speculated. He was smiling at her, friendly. He wore jeans and a black hoodie.

"Well, you are dead. And you did just say I was asleep, so I'm guessing this is some combination of a dream and a hallucination."

"You don't believe in life after death?" He tipped his head sideways, his gaze piercing.

"Are you saying that I'm actually talking to a dead person, that this isn't just a hallucination brought on by grief and sleep deprivation?"

"I'm not saying anything. Apparently, I'm a product of your subconscious mind. Though really, is it your subconscious if it's connecting with you so bluntly?" He grinned. "Whoa. Paradox."

Still unclear what this was, Rush just looked at him. "So why has the afterlife/my mind brought you here for?"

He shrugged. "Who knows, right? Either I know as much as you do, or I'm a ghost and not obligated to talk about what happens when you die." He smiled. "So how've you been?"

"I've seen better days." And then, "If you're a product of my imagination, you'd know how I was."

"Doesn't explain how I can see the future."

"Wait, what now?"

"Yeah. It's pretty cool, actually. You'd like it."

"Is that why you're here, to tell me the future?"

He smiled. "Maybe. Or maybe your mind's just making something up for me to tell you."

"I'd like to think my mind has my best interests in mind."

"You'd think, but some hallucinations tell you to not so good stuff. You know, schizophrenia and all."

She sighed. "Oh, yeah. So are you gonna be helpful. Kutner always was."

"I know." He said. "I'll be as helpful as possible."

She smiled, for the first time in a while. "Good."

"You've been sad lately."

"I have."

"I have a good guess as to why."

"You would, whether you're my mind or not."

"But you're still at Princeton-Plainsboro. Doing your job, hanging out around the new team and House and Wilson and Chase and Cameron. Does it hurt?"

"I'm reminded of you everyday."

"But you don't leave."

"Sometimes remembering you isn't the worst thing. It's good things, of course, what I see. Because you saw good in people."

"I think you stick around because you're afraid to move on."

Rush raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I don't want to move on. I don't _want _to forget."

"You don't have to forget." He said. "But I'm not coming back. I wish I could, but I'm can't. You have to let go. You can't spend the rest of your life waiting for me to show up miraculously."

"I know. But it's been barely any time since you died. You can't expect me to get over it that quickly."

"I don't expect you to. But I know what direction your leaning toward, and that's pushing everyone else away in misery."

"Right, apparently you can see the future. A future."

"You think it can change?"

"To some extent. But I think when it's your time to die, it's just your time. And even if someone could go back and try to change it, it would just end the same way."

"I know you thought about killing yourself. Following me."

"That was stupid. I don't want to die. I was in a bad place when I thought about that. We weren't even together when you died." She said decisively, crossing her arms.

"I wish we were."

"Would it have changed things?"

"I don't know. Maybe I would've waited, but I don't think the pain would've gone away, even for you. It would just be worse for you when I eventually would off myself."

She looked at him pleadingly. "If you had just talked to someone. Me. Taub. We could've helped. House, even, might've listened."

"I was never that simple."

She looked at the ground, blinked her eyes a few times.

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's, not one person." He said quietly. She felt his hand on her shoulder.

Looking up, she saw black clouds forming on the horizon, moving toward them. Lightning lit up one of the thunderheads as the wind picked, blowing their clothes tight against their bodies.

"You have to go." Kutner said.

"Already?"

"You have an engagement on the other side that you can't miss."

"Oh, right." She paused. "Will I see you again, ever?"

"Dunno." He replied. "I guess that depends if it's really me or just your mind making shit up as it goes along. But if this really is dead me talking, then I'll be seeing you in sixty years or thereabouts. Blink of an eye for a dead person. Though you'll have a totally different life by then. A happy one, I hope."

"You said you can see the future."

"A future." He grinned, which subsided after a moment. "Give Chase and Cameron my congratulations. For your sake, I hope the future is set in stone. Good things are coming for you, if you let them. For their sake, I hope it's all subject to change."

"I suppose you're going to be cryptic and leave it like that?" She half smiled.

"You know it."

He pulled her forward into a hug, which she returned.

"You're gonna be ok." He whispered.

"We'll see, won't we?" She replied. "Either from my head or somewhere else."

She was still in his arms as the marsh faded.

Midmorning sunlight was falling through her drapes when she slowly opened her eyes. It was her day off, so she'd gotten out of bed and promptly fallen asleep on the couch.

Checking the wall clock, she leaped to her feet unsteadily and hopped toward the bathroom at a lilt.

She took a cold shower to wake up. A few tears fell, but she barely acknowledged them. She'd seen him one last time. He'd told her to move on.

He'd also told her he wished they could've been together.

_See you in sixty years._ She thought, wondering if he could hear. Assuming she hadn't just made up the whole thing to begin with.

She blow dried her hair, then combed it and put it up in a bun. She slipped into a blue velvet dress and black boots before her grabbing her purse.

Rush arrived just a minute early, and found her seat next to Thirteen and Foreman. She nodded hello just as the music began to play, and they rose for the radiant bride.

Rush smiled at the happy couple, but couldn't help thinking about what Kutner'd said about Chase and Cameron's future. It was a foreboding thought. Maybe the future could change, maybe it couldn't.

She hugged them both at the reception.

"Beautiful wedding." She complemented.

"We'll be there for yours." Chase said.

She smiled ruefully. "When and if."

She found a table after that. Ordered herself some wine to watch the dance floor. Flowing dresses twirled, bright colors surrounding the white one at the center of it. A local band played music off to one side. The bride and groom, Taub and his wife, Thirteen and Foreman, Cuddy and Rachel. They twirled like bits of wrapping paper.

The sun was setting before people began to say good byes.

Medina Rush climbed into her car, turned the key and let the engine turn over.


End file.
